Among a mass of vague conceptions which it is impossible to reduce to any clearly defined form he has a few ideas which are perhaps not strictly true, but which are at least intelligible.  Among these is his conviction that Russia has let slip a magnificent opportunity of distancing all Europe on the road of progress.  She might, he thinks, at the time of the Emancipation, have boldly accepted all the most advanced principles of political and social science, and have completely reorganised the political and social structure in accordance with them.  Other nations could not take such a step, because they are old and decrepit, filled with stubborn, hereditary prejudices, and cursed with an aristocracy and a bourgeoisie; but Russia is young, knows nothing of social castes, and has no deep-rooted prejudices to contend with.  The population is like potter’s clay, which can be made to assume any form that science may recommend.  Alexander II. began a magnificent sociological experiment, but he stopped half-way.

Some day, he believes, the experiment will be completed, but not by the autocratic power.  In his opinion autocracy is “played out,” and must give way to Parliamentary institutions.  For him a Constitution is a kind of omnipotent fetish.  You may try to explain to him that a Parliamentary regime, whatever its advantages may be, necessarily produces political parties and political conflicts, and is not nearly so suitable for grand sociological experiments as a good paternal despotism.  You may try to convince him that, though it may be difficult to convert an autocrat, it is infinitely more difficult to convert a House of Commons.  But all your efforts will be in vain.  He will assure you that a Russian Parliament would be something quite different from what Parliaments commonly are.  It would contain no parties, for Russia has no social castes, and would be guided entirely by scientific considerations—­as free from prejudice and personal influences as a philosopher speculating on the nature of the Infinite!  In short, he evidently imagines that a national Parliament would be composed of himself and his friends, and that the nation would calmly submit to their ukazes, as it has hitherto submitted to the ukazes of the Tsars.

Pending the advent of this political Millennium, when unimpassioned science is to reign supreme, Nikolai Ivan’itch allows himself the luxury of indulging in some very decided political animosities, and he hates with the fervour of a fanatic.  Firstly and chiefly, he hates what he calls the bourgeoisie—­he is obliged to use the French word, because his native language does not contain an equivalent term—­and especially capitalists of all sorts and dimensions.  Next, he hates aristocracy, especially a form of aristocracy called Feudalism.  To these abstract terms he does not attach a very precise meaning, but he hates the entities which they are supposed to represent quite as heartily as if they were personal enemies.  Among the things which he hates in his own country, the Autocratic Power holds the first place.  Next, as an emanation from the Autocratic Power, come the tchinovniks, and especially the gendarmes.  Then come the landed proprietors.  Though he is himself a landed proprietor, he regards the class as cumberers of the ground, and thinks that all their land should be confiscated and distributed among the peasantry.